Leaving Your Translucent World

You tell me you listen. Your ears, I see, are open, but with your mind drifting somewhere else. A world away, a girl away. You can't call it cheating. It's not out loud

I talk to you about my day, you study my face but instead reflect hers in it. Sometimes I wish I didn't have this power to read you so damn well. You're impossibly open, only to me. I cannot miss a single thought of yours, every word you ever heard from her a letter, tucked away forever yet mine seem to blow right through your ears with the winter wind, desperate and numb.

As I pass to you a story, hoping it might get through, just once, this time, I hear a reminder of her voice in your ear, and watch it brighten your spirit like mine never has.

I'm glad to see your smile but I wonder, if it's not from me, what am I doing here? Crafting, perfecting it, for what? My own satisfaction.

Suddenly, I stop talking. You look up at me, brows furred, you have no idea what's going on in my head. (that's unbelievable to me)

Your translucent world is not so lonely, after all, with her in your heart. Without me in the flesh, I do not come close to the feeling of knowing she is out there. Her idea stomps me, right here, camping out in front of you. As I walk away, not having said a word, she comforts you in your confusion.

The distance does not matter now, I'm inches and miles and years away so I leave you with her, and finally have no idea what's happening in your mind. I reunite my own thoughts, and find they work better on their own.

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